<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Believe Nothing but the Birds by TheFandomLesbian</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830470">Believe Nothing but the Birds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian'>TheFandomLesbian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Spencer's Criminal Minds One-Shots [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Car Accidents, Car Chases, HotchReid - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One-Shot, Short</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:40:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After waking up bloody in an ocean of shattered glass in the Suburban, Aaron has trouble piecing together the events leading up to this moment.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Spencer's Criminal Minds One-Shots [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Believe Nothing but the Birds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthelastoreo/gifts">forthelastoreo</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Aaron didn’t remember what happened, exactly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He didn’t remember much after being in the Suburban, his foot to the floor as he pursued the dark blue Chevy Silverado with license plates D6941, Spencer beside him holding onto the Oh Shit handle with his teeth bared in a grimace and his foot slamming the imaginary brake the passenger side did not have. Aaron remembered thinking,<em> I’m really scaring him</em>, and wishing Spencer wouldn’t have been in the car when the dark blue Chevy Silverado with license plates D6941 passed by them, but that truck held a victim in its backseat, and Aaron couldn’t lose it, not if he wanted to take her alive. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He registered the shattered glass all around his face. He tasted blood. He blinked--bright lights everywhere, glinting off of the glass, off of the shredded metal, off of the shrapnel.<em> I don’t see the truck</em>. A flicker of movement at the window--“Chevy Silverado, dark blue, D6941--” His voice didn’t project outside of the Suburban. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>The Suburban</em>. He was still inside the car.<em> Spencer</em>. “Spencer--” Desperately, Aaron turned his head. His neck ached and popped. “Spencer!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sir, we need you to hold still--” There was a face at the shattered window now, and the face was upside down, which didn’t make any sense, except that Aaron realized now he was hanging upside down in his car, the seatbelt holding him to the seat while the rest of him dangled all sorts of weird ways. “Sir, remain calm, I’m going to apply this neck brace on you to keep you from hurting yourself. We have to get the jaws to get you out of here.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The what--no, no, you don’t understand, my husband--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The paramedic snapped the neck brace into place, and then Aaron couldn’t turn his head left or right, could only stare ahead through the shattered windshield with blood running into his eyes. “My husband, he was right there--I can’t see him, get him first--” Aaron babbled, wondering if he was making any sense, wondering how many police were here instead of with the victim following that Chevy Silverado, “D6941,” he mumbled aloud to himself. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A hand covered his. “Sir, your husband is fine. He’s in the ambulance now, and he’s waiting for you. We’re worried about you now.” Aaron blinked the blood out of his eyes. <em>He’s fine.</em> Was he lying? Aaron wasn’t sure. He’d lied to people before about things like that. Only if they were dying, only if he wouldn’t be caught, only if it would bring them significant relief--but still, he had done it. “You can see him as soon as we get this door off of this car, alright?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was a big promise for a liar to make, but Aaron still doubted him. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His head rang shrilly as the jaws of life pierced the steel and tossed heat and sparks around him. The tinnitus roared back at him, and then when the paramedic and the police and the fireman spoke, he couldn’t hear them, so he repeated, “I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you,” until their mouths seemed to stop moving, and someone’s hands sawed through the seatbelt and dragged him out across the shattered glass on his belly and rolled him onto a gurney. “I can walk--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The world spun when they lifted up the gurney. He thought he would vomit. The harsh sunlight hurt his eyes. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Someone took his hand. He squeezed tight. “What happened?” he asked, and Spencer nodded across the way where a semi-truck laid on its right side several meters away from the totaled Suburban turned up on its roof. He couldn’t hear Spencer’s voice, but he could see the word, “intersection,” on his mouth. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Spencer’s hand on his was like a vice. An intersection--the driver couldn’t have seen him coming or had time to yield, and Aaron didn’t have time or space to stop. He blinked blearily. The back of the ambulance was darker, and he felt very sleepy. Spencer patted his hand, and the tinnitus faded enough for him to make out, “Wake up, wake up, don’t fall asleep yet.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The sound of Spencer’s voice was a balm. He licked his lips. They had little cuts all over them from where the windshield had shattered across his face. “Are you okay?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Spencer was cut up, too, with a bandage on his temple. “I’m fine.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron’s eyes fluttered. “How fast were we going?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Ninety-eight.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>The Suburban can go faster than that</em>. “We could’ve died.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah.” Spencer didn’t let go of his hand, even as the paramedic began to clean his arm to start an IV. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron’s thoughts felt fuddled up. This wasn’t what he would’ve experienced from a near death experience. He would’ve expected more laud and honor. “Why aren’t you kissing me right now?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A soft breath blew from Spencer’s nose. “I think you have a concussion.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>That didn’t answer my question.</em> But the needle pierced his skin and chased away the notion.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>